


Cornerstone

by Tipper



Series: The Clod and The Pebble [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4010911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipper/pseuds/Tipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter causes Vin to doubt Ezra just for a second, but a second may be all it takes to destroy a friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cornerstone

**Author's Note:**

> Another old one, sorry all. I’m thinking this story is circa 2002-2003. Trust issues were a common thread in my earlier fics, less so in later ones. I wrote this in response to a question someone asked me many years ago (Katherine, I think) about whether I had decided I'd resolved all the trust issues between Ezra and the others. If you know my stories, you'll know that there is one person that 9 times out of 10 stands behind Ezra on everything. Also, Vin talks a lot in this. Just grin and bear it.

"Where did that come from?" Ezra asked Vin, genuinely confused.

"Do you deny it?" the tracker asked, his voice strained. He was clearly angry, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed to near slits.

"No," Ezra frowned, "Why would I?"

Vin snorted, shoved himself back from the card table, and proceeded to walk away. Ezra's brow wrinkled, completely at a loss. Hoping for an explanation, he looked over at Nathan. The healer always knew when he had done something underhanded or wrong – Nathan had a sixth sense about these things when it came to Ezra.

Nathan just stared blankly back at him.

"Do you know what I did wrong?" Ezra asked, wondering if he sounded as stupid as he felt.

Nathan shook his head, and looked at Vin. The tracker was now leaning over the bar, reaching for a bottle of whiskey. Chris had seen the exchange from across the room, where he'd been sitting with Josiah. Frowning at Ezra, he stood up and walked over to the bar to join Vin.

Ezra and Nathan both watched with curious expressions.

Eventually, they saw Vin nod to whatever it was that Chris was saying, and both men exited the saloon together.

Ezra looked down at the cards in his hands. As usual, they were neatly stacked, perfectly placed, ready to be dealt. It sometimes amazed him how his hands did that automatically. He never even noticed anymore. Sort of like breathing.

He looked up again as Josiah joined them, the preacher looking at Nathan with a questioning look.

"What happened?"

"Not sure. Vin asked Ezra a question. Ezra answered. Vin called him a bastard and left."

"What did he ask?" Josiah looked at Ezra now.

"If I had ever been to Las Vegas."

"And, have you?"

Ezra shrugged and nodded, "Of course I have. Who hasn't?"

"I haven't," Nathan said. Josiah shrugged. He had. That small town in the north of the territory had a reputation for being a good place to hide. Like many, Josiah had taken refuge there for a while.

"What was your name when you were there," Nathan asked. Ezra glanced at him sharply. Nathan merely shrugged. "Was it Ezra something or other, or were you going by something else."

"I have been several times, but each time I used Ezra, yes."

"Standish?"

Ezra's lips pursed, and he shook his head slowly. "No, but it's a name that's not in trouble."

"Do you recall what you did while you were there?"

Ezra smiled and looked at Nathan. "I gambled. What else would I do?"  
_____________________

"I didn't want to believe he was involved," Vin said, leaning over Peso's saddle horn and staring out at the moonlit landscape. Chris stared off at the horizon to his left, watching as a single star streaked the night sky in one short burst.

"There are a lot of gamblers in the world, Vin."

"Named Ezra?"

"Sure, why not."

"And matching his description?"

Chris shrugged. Vin sighed.

"I know he's not the same man he was," the tracker sighed. "I seen much worse than him totally reformed. But still, to know that he could have been involved in something so evil...." He trailed off, his mind's eye seeing Ezra laughing as he took bets on a fight in town, even bloody ones. But he also remembered when that old Colonel came to kill him, and the torture it had done to Ezra's soul. Why didn't the two sides of Ezra seem to meet? How could the man have a conscience one minute and not the next?

"You know that I'm always the last to say anything against him. I seen the others rail into him for one reason or another, even JD, but I always believed that he had a core that made up for whatever stupid ass stuff he did. Sure, he's pissed me off, but never have I thought he could've done something like that." Sighing, he leaned forward and touched his fingers to his head. What did he really know? Ezra was the one that read people. He just relied on hunches; hunches that had been wrong before.

"So, what do you want to do?" Chris asked quietly. "Arrest him?"

Vin gave a short laugh. "For what? Gambling in a territory that allows most everything?"

"It was what he gambled on, Vin. Rape's illegal no matter where you are."

"Yeah, I know."

"What exactly did you ask him? Did you ask whether he had actually been involved? Or just whether he had been to Vegas."

Vin shrugged.

Chris shook his head. "You need to know for sure, Vin. Then we'll all know for sure."

"And if we do?"

"Then we'll ask him to leave."

Vin stared at Chris, seeing no emotion in the man's face. He would do it, if that's what was called for. He'd ask Ezra to leave.

Vin looked away, back at the horizon in the distance. He didn't really want to ask. He didn't really want to know. He just wanted the letter he'd received from Evelyn to go away.  
_________________________

Laughter poured out of the saloon as the two men returned, the brightly lit establishment welcoming all comers. Vin jumped off Peso's back and handed the reins to Chris, who continued on to the stables.

The tracker pushed his way into the saloon and did a quick scan of the residents. Not seeing Ezra, he aimed for the stairs.

"He's not up there," Inez said, placing a hand on his arm. "He's at the infirmary. There was a nasty fight a little while ago. He's guarding one of the fighters while Nathan stitches the jerk back up, a real loco."

Vin nodded, thanking her. Turning around, he went back outside and jogged over to the stable. He saw Ezra standing on the balcony of the clinic on the second floor, leaning with his hands on the banister, staring up at the moon.

"Hey," he called up. Ezra looked down and grinned.

"Hey Vin."

"Trouble?"

The gambler shook his head. "Nothing we couldn't handle." He grinned again. "Could have used that loud shot of yours, though. Might have stopped the fight a bit earlier."

Vin smiled, patting the weapon at his side. She was loud, but she was reliable. "Maybe I'll buy you one, one of these days, to replace that little pea-shooter of yours. It's about time you got a decent gun."

"Heavens forefend," Ezra laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the banister, one foot hooked on the railing. "I'll have you know I like that little pea-shooter, even if I don't wear it as much as I used to."

Vin nodded, looking down at the ground. Ezra watched him a moment, then sighed.

"So, Vin...." He tilted his head. "You, uh, forgive me for whatever it was I did yet?"

"Maybe. Depends whether you did it or not."

"Oh?"

"When you were in Vegas, did you know a girl named LuAnn?"

Ezra frowned, then his expression went stone cold. Vin almost went for his gun, part of him reacting as if he'd just been threatened. Ezra didn't notice, just stared at Vin as if the man had suggested he'd murdered his own children.

"You think I had a hand in that?" the gambler asked after a moment, his voice low. "You actually think I could have been a part of that?"

Vin backed up another step, not liking the answer. "Then you were there," he hissed.

"No, I was _not_."

Vin frowned, clearly not sure. Ezra shook his head, and, after glancing into the clinic to make sure the man Nathan was tending was still out cold, turned and headed for the stairs.

In moments, he stood in front of Vin, his eyes narrowed.

"Who told you I was there?"

"A friend."

"Someone you trust?"

"Yes."

Ezra's eyes flashed, and he nodded. "I see. Then you have my apologies, Mr. Tanner."

Vin's brow furrowed. "For what?"

"For being duped. Someone has lied to you. Whether you believe me, or you believe them, either way, you have been lied to by someone about something truly horrible. For that, I am sorry. All I can tell you is that I had nothing to do with the..." He shuddered. "…atrocity that occurred in Vegas to that poor girl, though I did hear about it. However, it is up to you to decide whether I am telling the truth. Tell me, do you trust me, Mr. Tanner?"

"Stop calling me 'Mr. Tanner.'"

"Don’t deflect. I asked you a question. Do you trust me?"

Vin swallowed, how had the name of one girl brought up such bitterness. "On most things," he said finally. Ezra nodded.

"On this?"

Vin's eyes lowered. Ezra's jaw tightened.

"I take it that means you don't know."

"The person who told me--"

"Is lying."

"She wouldn't lie to me."

Ezra stared at Vin a moment longer, his eyes bright in the moonlight. Then he lowered them, and they disappeared into shadow under his hat.

"Then what do you plan to do?" the gambler said. "Ask me to leave? Arrest me? Maybe even kill me?"

"I never said I didn't believe--"

"Trust implies belief, Mr. Tanner, at least on this matter. You do not trust me to have told you the truth. Despite everything you have seen and learned about me and my character, you still aren't sure you trust me. Fine. But I will not leave voluntarily. This is not my problem, it's yours. Make your decision, Mr. Tanner. Decide for sure whether you trust me on this or not. I won't make it for you. I can't."

Vin shut his eyes as Ezra turned abruptly around and headed back to the clinic stairs.

Chris stood just inside the stable doors, his eyes downcast. Vin pulled the letter from his pocket again, quickly scanning it with his eyes. Though he could read now, albeit slowly, he'd asked Chris quietly to read it through, to make sure he had read it correctly.

It was a letter from a woman named Evelyn that ran one of the hotels in Las Vegas. She was, so Vin said, an old friend and one of the few people he trusted implicitly in this world. He'd known her since his childhood, when she became his father's housekeeper after his mother's death. When his father disappeared a few years later, she had brought him up until he went out on his own at 14.

He'd written her several letters since he could write now, explaining where he was and what he did now.

And who he worked with.

She'd written back several times, her tone always pleased and proud. She'd wanted to know more. In the last letter, he'd described Ezra. Her response was immediate, short and to the point.

He was one of the men. One of the one's that had bet on her LuAnn. On how long she'd hold out. She knew the name, and the man. She even knew that he had a mother who was as cold as he was.

She trusted that Vin would do what was necessary to avenge her daughter.

Chris watched as Vin read the letter again, then crumpled it up in his hand. The tracker sighed deeply and looked up at the sky.

After a moment, he began walking away, heading towards the saloon again. Chris walked deeper into the stables, going back to brushing his horse.

Suddenly, a yell was heard from the clinic. Vin turned in time to see Ezra bodily thrown out the door and into the railing, the wood creaking under the onslaught. The gambler gripped the banister, standing on shaky legs, his hand going for his Remington. He gasped when it wasn't there.

Slowly, he started backing to the side, towards the stairs.

A man stood silhouetted in the clinic doorway, his size and girth nearly filling up the whole space. He took a step out and Vin could easily see the long barreled Remington in his hand, pointed straight at the gambler.

Vin had already pulled out his Mare's Leg at the first yell, and he had it pointed up at the balcony as Chris ran towards him from the livery. Ezra glanced down, saw Vin there, covering him. He'd smiled.

But Vin didn't fire.

Ezra's smile fell.

And in that moment, the Remington fired instead.

The gambler was thrown backwards on the balcony from the shot, wood planks complaining and groaning under the shifting balance, until he landed hard on his side just feet from the steps, lifeless.

Vin just stared, the Mare's Leg frozen in his hands.

Chris pulled his peacemaker and fired as the murderer up above turned the weapon on them. It took two shots before the killer fell forward, tipping over the banister and landing with a thump at their feet.

Chris walked over and gave the dead man a kick, just in case.

Up above, Nathan wandered out, a bandage to his bleeding head where the killer had knocked him over. As soon as he saw Ezra, he started yelling for help. Chris glanced once at Vin, then ran up the clinic stairs to join Nathan.

The tracker just stood silent, watching. The Mare's Leg had been lowered to his side, but otherwise he hadn't moved. He never even noticed as the others appeared around him, along with various townspeople.

"What have I done?" he whispered aloud to the world.  
____________________________________

"Is he dead?" Chris asked, watching as Nathan tipped Ezra onto his back. Blood poured out of the hole in his side, seemingly unstoppable.

"Not yet. Not yet," Nathan pressed the bandage he'd been holding to his own head to Ezra's back. He looked across at Chris, "It went straight through, but I can't tell how much damage it did. It's too dark. I can't see what was hit. I need bandages, and I need light."

Chris nodded and disappeared into the clinic. In moments, he had returned with more bandages. Nathan pressed them to Ezra's side and wrapped them tight. Then he indicated that they needed to carry the gambler inside.

Down below, Vin finally woke up from his reverie. He found Josiah staring at him, blue eyes dark and quizzical.

"What happened?" the preacher asked.

Vin just blinked. "I...I made a mistake."  
___________________________________

The bells rang the next day, indicating another life lost. People milled about, returning slowly from boot hill, discussing the burial. Black dresses and jackets were visible everywhere. Crying could be heard within the low murmurs, and everyone had their heads bowed.

Women stood together in a corner, glancing at everyone and anyone and gossiping in low whispers. They wondered how someone so good could have snapped like that. What had possessed him to do such a thing. Gun down someone in cold blood.

 _Shh, there's his wife_.

The man who had died last night was a local farmer named Mick Childes. They knew he had been having financial problems, but to have gotten into a fight at the saloon over a few insults from James' off duty ranch hands, and then summarily fought his way out of Nathan's clinic afterwards, where he was in no danger, and to have shot poor Mr. Standish.... Something was very wrong here.

Vin sat up in the clinic, listening as the bells finally ceased. People would be moving on, getting back to the chores of daily life.

He looked down at Ezra, the man's pale face making him look as if he were already wearing his coffin.

"I know...I know it may seem hard to believe, Ezra, but I know the truth. I just realized it too late. It all happened so fast, and with her words ringing in my head about getting revenge for her daughter, it confused me long enough to make me hesitate. But, I know now. I know. I know. She's made a mistake. I know that. I trust you. Oh God, please...."

He shut his eyes and bowed his head, slipping all the way down until his head hit the mattress.

Nathan stood out on the balcony, watching as Josiah attacked some rotten wood along the baseboard of his church. He was smashing it to bits with a mallet, the ferocity well beyond what was necessary. A few feet away from the healer, Chris sat on the rocking chair in the corner, watching the town and smoking a cheroot. He looked as if it were just another day, but Nathan knew the gunslinger was only concerned about what had happened. Something more had happened last night, something that was making Vin beg for Ezra's forgiveness inside the clinic behind him.

Nathan wondered if Ezra could hear him. He hoped so.  
___________________________________

A week later, Ezra opened his eyes. He stared up at the clinic ceiling and blinked a few times. Sound filtered into his consciousness and he looked to his right, where Vin was sleeping on the other cot. Ezra wondered if the tracker was hurt.

The thought was pushed aside immediately as Ezra remembered what had happened.

Vin had let Childes shoot him.

Vin had made his decision.

Of course.

He should have known.

Something fell to pieces inside the gambler then. He could almost feel it shatter inside him, resonating against the pain of the wounds. As he closed his eyes again, he despaired briefly at that fact that he couldn't be a part of the seven anymore.

Was he ever?  
__________________________

"Don't do this," Vin was pacing, watching as Ezra slowly packed up his room. The gambler glanced over at him, and smiled.

"I'm afraid it's a done deal. You all knew this would happen some day. I'm buying a saloon. I'm sorry that it is not this venerable establishment, but I am told that it is one of the finest establishments in San Francisco. When you get out there, you must come by to visit."

Vin gritted his teeth, seeing the pain still in Ezra's stilted movements. It was barely a month since the shooting. Ezra wasn't well enough to be moving around so much.

"And you got the money where again?" Vin flexed his hands.

Ezra shook his head. He'd had the money for a while, more than enough, in fact. He just hadn't used it.

"Mr. Tanner, as much as I appreciate your company, I'm afraid that I really must finish this if I'm to meet the stage in the morning on time." Ezra reached down to open another trunk, and winced as a sharp pain lanced up his side.

"There, see?" Vin moved forward and pushed the trunk lid back down, ignoring Ezra's annoyed expression. "You're not even well enough to open a trunk lid. How are you possibly going to get all this stuff to San Fran?"

"It is being shipped. I will not be needing to lift anything heavier than the lid." Pushing Vin aside, he reopened the lid, this time doing it without wincing, despite the fact that the pain was even sharper this time.

"Damn it, Ezra, you can't leave because of me. Of what I did. If anyone should be leaving, it should be me. I'm the one that screwed up."

Ezra sighed, left the trunk lid be, and walked over to the stripped bed. Sitting on the mattress he looked at Vin and smiled.

"Mr. Tanner, it isn't because of you. Well, perhaps, in part, but you are only part of the whole."

"The whole?" Vin didn't think he was going to like this. He hadn't liked a single thing that had left Ezra's mouth since the man had started calling him Mr. Tanner again. He'd given up trying to get Ezra to call him Vin. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"Yes. For some reason I can't explain, Mr. Tanner, I believed that the six of you had finally come to trust me. Not about frivolous things, like card games, obviously, but about the most important things, I mistakenly thought you knew me. At the very least, I trusted you to cover me in a fight." He glanced up at Vin.

"They do. I do. Christ, Ezra, how often do I have to tell you that? I made a mistake. I'll never make it again, you have to believe me."

Ezra shut his eyes. "Maybe you think so now, Mr. Tanner. But when it mattered, you hesitated. Of all of them, I always believed you would be the one to back me up. You have always been there, even when...even when I was in the wrong. I'm not sure when it happened, but you became--to use a cliché--the cornerstone on which I rested my belief that I could trust all of you, and that you all could trust me."

"No," Vin whispered.

Ezra shrugged. "So you see, if I can't trust you..."

"Josiah, what about Josiah?"

"For some bizarre reason he cares a great deal about me right now, I know, but that doesn't mean he was always there to back me up, or will be. Only one person was always there."

Vin shut his eyes.

"So, if I can't trust you, what makes you think I could trust any of the others? I need that trust, Mr. Tanner. Like the sight of dry land to a man trapped at sea. It means more to me than anything else. Surely, you knew that."

Vin turned his head away, not knowing what else to say.

"For what it is worth, I loved being here. Being a part of this town, this…family, even if only for a little while, has been one of the greatest things I have ever done and probably will ever do. And I really do want you and the others to visit, when you can. I'll always have a room open for you. I hope you still consider me your friend."

Vin just nodded, but he still couldn't face Ezra yet. The guilt was too powerful in his system still.

Ezra stood up again and walked to the door. "I think I need a drink, Mr. Tanner. If you feel like joining me, I'll be downstairs."  
_______________________________

Evelyn Starr stepped off the coach and looked around the small town, thinking that it looked an awful lot like every other town she'd passed through so far. She sighed and turned a tight circle, looking for someone or something. When she saw the jail, she straightened her shoulders, picked up her small carpetbag, and walked that way.

Buck was whittling wood outside the structure, shaping it into a spade from a deck of cards. He was planning to give it to Ezra, knowing that their friend was leaving tomorrow. His mind was drifting over all the events of the past two and a half years, amazed at the amount of time that had passed, trying to understand why now--after everything that had happened--Vin let that man shoot Ezra. It just didn't make any sense to him. But he understood Ezra's logic. If Vin could let him down, there was no telling about the rest of them. The idea made Buck uneasy.

"Excuse me, would you perhaps be Mr. Buck Wilmington?"

Buck's hands stopped, and he looked up in surprise. He had barely noticed the stagecoach arrive -- a sure sign that this situation was seriously bothering him. As soon as he saw who had spoken, he quickly stood and smiled gregariously.

She was older, perhaps about sixty, with blond hair only just touching on gray. She was plain, her face showing many years of hard labor and hardship, her lips curving downwards even at rest. Bags and lines framed her brown eyes, drowning them, but, still, she managed to give Buck a smile in return.

"Why yes, ma'am. I am," he told her. "Have we met?"

"Oh no, but I recognize you from your description. My name is Evelyn Starr. I am looking for Vin Tanner and Mr. Ezra Standish. Do you know where I might find them? I understand from letters I have received from Vin that you are his friend."

Buck nodded. "Yes ma'am, I am. And I think you'll find Vin and Ezra at the Tavern, across there." He pointed across the street. "Would you like me to bring them to you, at the hotel maybe?"

Evelyn was looking at the saloon, but she turned back to Buck with a shake of her head. "No, thank you, Mr. Wilmington. I appreciate the offer, but I'll be fine."

Buck nodded and watched as she headed across the street, her carpetbag gripped tightly in her fingers. After a moment, he looked down at the wood in his hand, then back at the saloon.

Curiosity was a terrible thing to have.

Dropping the wood into his pocket, he followed her across.  
_____________________________

Ezra was drinking a bottle of scotch, the glass resting in his left hand while his right spread out the cards on the table. He wasn't doing anything to them, he was just fidgeting. He looked up as a woman pushed her way into the saloon, her gaze spreading out across the room.

When she saw him, her eyes narrowed.

Ezra straightened in his chair as she approached, looking at her curiously.

"Ezra Standish?" she asked, looking at him.

"At the moment," he answered. "May I help you?"

Her gaze had steeled as she looked at him, and he could see her knuckles whitening around her bag.

"No," she said slowly and looked further around the room.

"Evelyn?"

She looked up, and a relieved smile crossed her face as she saw Vin at the top of the stairs, looking at her with an amazed expression. Then he smiled and bounded down the stairs. When he was facing her, he hesitated and she nodded.

"That's fine, my boy, I didn't think you'd changed that much," she stuck out a hand, and he embraced it in both hands. Hugging never was his style -- this was about as close as it got.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, still smiling. She lowered her eyes and glanced at Ezra before locking gazes with him again.

"Well, I came to see if you…to know what you had done about...about LuAnn." She swallowed nervously. Vin's smile fell.

"We should talk outside," he said quietly.

"Outside?" She backed away, dropping her hand from his. "I did not come here to talk outside, son. I came to see that justice was done. And I came to tell you that if you won't do it, I'll find someone who will."

"Evelyn...."

"You played with her when she was little, Vin. You know what a sweet, wonderful girl she was, even...even if her daddy wasn't." Evelyn watched as Vin visibly flinched at the mention of her former husband's name, and she shook her head. "Whatever he did to you, she didn't deserve what happened to her, and all those involved will pay. You know that, don't you? You must know."

"What happened between me and your husband has nothing to do with right now, Evelyn. Believe me, if I believed you were right, I would have done something. But you're not. You're wrong about this. Please, let's just go outside." He tried to take her arm, but she shook him off.

"What do you mean, I'm wrong? Don't you trust me to know what I know? After everything I did for you, brought you up, treated you like my own, gave you shelter when you were on the run...you know what kind of a person I am, Vin Tanner. Are you telling me that, all of a sudden, you don't believe me to be telling you the truth? I was there, Vin. I saw them afterwards; I saw him afterwards." She pointed at Ezra, and the gambler's eyes widened. "Like buzzards scooping up their winnings, my daughter's body the pickings...." Her voice was shaking; her eyes tearing. She looked then at Ezra, then back at Vin.

"He was one of them. I know his name. I know his face. I know his kind. He was there."

Ezra was holding his breath, watching this all unfold in front of him like a bad play. This woman had a force about her that was powerfully convincing. Even he was beginning to believe he had been there. He glanced at Buck, who had sidled in behind this woman, and was surprised to see his friend giving him an encouraging shake of the head.

Vin nodded as he looked at Ezra, then back at her. "No, Evelyn, he wasn't. You're wrong."

She blinked, and now tears really were falling down her face. "He's conned you, hasn't he. I never thought you would fall for--"

"Evelyn, please. I know what you think, but you're wrong. It was a long time ago, and your memory is not what it was."

"What?" Her eyes widened, and anger tinged her tone. "Don't you dare suggest that to me! You think I could forget? Every face is emblazoned on my mind like a brand, Vin Tanner. Every single one. His..." She glared at Ezra. "…is one of those faces."

Vin shook his head. "I know you may think so--"

"Is his name Ezra?"

"Yes."

"Is he a gambler? Does he have a red coat?"

Vin nodded.

"And his mother, a clever woman, very pretty, with dark hair like his and colder than a snake?"

Ezra sat up straight, and Vin actually gave a smile.

"No. Blonde. She's very blonde."

For the first time, Evelyn gave one twitch that suggested a flaw in her conviction, then it disappeared.

"Well, we all know the wonders of peroxide," she said darkly.

"Now, just a minute..." Ezra banged a hand on the table, but Vin threw up a hand to forestall him. Buck gave a half smile, amused that Ezra's first words in this horrible situation would actually be to deny that his mother dyed her hair.

Vin sighed. "Evelyn, you know what you mean to me. You know what LuAnn meant to me. But I know, I know here…" He touched his chest. "…that you have made a mistake. While Ezra here may think he's pretty different, his dress is just like those who share his profession, and to say that Irish coloring like his was common would be an understatement. People's faces blur in our memories, Evelyn. Even those faces we've resolved never to forget. I know, because I wish to God I had a picture of my mother's face, to remind me of her." He swallowed, watching as Evelyn's face crumpled. "I'm sorry Evelyn. I know how much you want to kill every one of them sons a' bitches for LuAnn's sake, but this Ezra, my friend Ezra, is not one of them. I know him too well, and I trust him. And whoever you hired to arrest him or kill him would have to go through me first."

Evelyn just stared at him, watching his eyes. Then she turned to Ezra, looking at him straight in the eyes.

"You weren't there," she said, the statement, though flat, was clearly a question.

"No." Ezra shook his head. "I have been to your town, and I did know your daughter, but I was not one of the men involved in what happened to her. I swear this to you."

She looked at him a moment longer, then gave a shuddering sigh and looked away.

"Do you know anyone else named Ezra, who is a gambler?" she asked then, tapping worn fingers on the tabletop.

"Yes."

Both Vin and Buck looked surprised, but Evelyn just took this in stride.

She nodded. "How many?"

"Two. But I wouldn't say that either looked like me, however indistinctive Vin here may think I am." He gave a small smile, to which she just nodded.

Vin, however, grinned widely and turned away to hide it.

Ezra had used his name.

Evelyn frowned, having heard Vin shift his posture behind her. When she looked at him, though, the smile was gone.

"If either one of them ever comes through here, Vin Tanner, I want you to talk to them for me, understand?"

Vin nodded, and raised his eyes to meet hers.

She shut her eyes for a moment, and then turned to look around the rest of the saloon. She saw several men watching her, and, from Vin's descriptions, she could guess who most of them were. Nodding, she looked back at Vin.

"I'm going to go find a room. I expect you to have dinner with me this evening, Vin Tanner. Six o'clock." She turned again, towards the door this time, and started walking. Right before she left, she glanced at Ezra again, then lowered her eyes and pushed her way out of the batwing doors.  
________________________________

Buck let out a deep breath with a "whoosh" and moved over to sit with Ezra. Vin walked over to the window to watch Evelyn cross the street, and then he looked back at them.

The gambler had pressed a hand to his forehead, and the other was now pressed to his hurt side. He seemed to be breathing a little more quickly, and Buck titled his head so he could see under the hand.

"Buck, could you do me a favor?" the gambler asked quietly, causing Buck to lean back.

"Sure hoss, whatever you need."

"Could you get Nathan for me?"

Buck's eyes widened, and he was up and out of his chair like a shot, practically running out of the door. Ezra gave a small smile, impressed, though he didn't lower the hand. His head was hurting too much.

Vin sat down in the vacated chair.

"Did you hurt yourself on that trunk lid, like I thought you did?" The tracker asked softly.

Ezra nodded, his hand still covering his eyes.

"You need to stay until you're healed, you know that, right?"

Ezra nodded again, and uncovered his face.

"Could take a while, couldn't it?" Vin pressed, playing with Ezra's glass where the gambler had placed it on the table. Light reflected off the tumbler, and, as he spun it round, it cascaded light around the table. "Maybe a long while. Might not be able to get to San Fran to complete that deal in time, huh?" Vin glanced sideways at Ezra, who was now giving him a small smile.

Ezra just shook his head slightly. "Perhaps not."

Vin just grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> This had a sequel, called the Clod and Pebble. I'm revising that one now.


End file.
